What You Could Be, Aven
by shinrinyokuu
Summary: What if Aven never really rebelled? What if he was never banished? If Aven had guidance, if he hadn't always been second-best to everyone, maybe the story wouldn't have gone downhill. Perhaps if Aeylia hadn't rejected him, if he hadn't realised who - what - she was...well, maybe all he needed was someone to love him best.


**Okay...first fanfic on this site...and it's time for me to admit it's not as easy and straightforward as Wattpad. (This site is not as easy as Wattpad!) But I'll try.  
**

 **I'm fairly positive that because this is a** ** _fan fiction_ site, entirely based around fanfiction, that you don't have to add a disclaimer . . . but for the sake of other sites I might post this on; The Medoran Chronicles does not belong to me.**

Aven was truly ticked off. The mortal delegation's trades were absolutely primitive. Meya was gaining nothing...and losing everything. Who even needed scented candles? What did you do with them?

Something had to be done, and Aven decided he was the one to do it. Okay, he was young - appearing only seventeen or eighteen years of age - but he was powerful. And he was sure he was right. He paced his spacious bedroom, occasionally gazing out of his window, before deciding he felt like a caged animal.

Aven'd always preferred the great outdoors to inside - everything he loved was better done outdoors, even eating - so he sucked it up and walked out of the palace, head down, almost ashamed...but not quite. He knew the rumours were circulating already. He and his Rebels...  
He briefly wondered where Aeylia had got to before deciding Roka'd probably taken care of her. Unlike him...thinking about it was painful. He decided not to think at all.

A blonde girl, his age, strolled briskly down the path the opposite way. Her eyes were like Myrox, gleaming with mirth but colourless except for traces of icy blue. Her long hair flowed free, finer than Aven's - like silk, like down, like dandelion puff. There was something off about her...

She waved at him, flashing a smile that made the air seem five degrees warmer, but Aven was a prince. He nodded, waving primly back, too lost in his own swirling thoughts to give much thought to her - or the jingling leather pouch she clutched in her hand.

There were shouts from where she'd come from, and it was only then that he realised what was wrong; though she was dressed in fine clothes, a knee-length navy-blue high waisted dress and black leather boots, her hands were streaked with dust and her nails filthy. Her hair hung, tangled. That was what was off.

And the leather pouch jingled with money...how had Aven not noticed that? An innkeeper was running after her, and after a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder, she took off - on the _Valispath_ , no less. The innkeeper slowed, looking dismayed, but he trudged back to his inn - The Smiling Fox - dejectedly. Aven felt a pang in his chest at the man's stance, but he hadn't thought to bring any currency with him.

He'd barely spent ten minutes outside, but he could still see the innkeeper's sullen back, moving away from him, and that scene was more than depressing. He chose instead to head back and perhaps lock himself in his room.

That was the first time he saw the pale girl. It wasn't the last, either.

* * *

She'd been distracted. The pale girl had had her destination in mind - her opulent home, with her grandfather, Roathus Lorenn, waiting for her - but then she'd begun to mull over the boy she'd seen, - met? noticed? - the one with golden eyes. If she was correct, he was Prince Aven Dalmarta, which she knew because her grandfather was a council member.  
She'd wondered if princes slept in canopy beds, or if Aven'd been relocated to the basement, or maybe the dungeon...and that was when she'd tumbled out in a pristine balcony. A _palace_ balcony, judging from the height and Myrox designs. She opened the balcony door...

It led to a bedroom. It was neat and spacey, but with a regal air. From the portrait above the fireplace...

 _Stars, Tasha,_ she thought anxiously. _This isn't your room, this isn't your room, get out get out get out get out get out . . ._

Red-faced and ready to activate the Eternal Path again once she was out on the balcony (it didn't work in the room; maybe it was warded against the _Valispath_ ) she stood quickly but couldn't help glancing around to check the room out. It was doubtful she'd ever get to see it again/  
The first thing she noticed was that it wasn't a stone dungeon.

The second was that it was much, much prettier than her own room.  
She took a tentative step towards the bedside table, filled with an assortment of pretty statuettes and ornaments, and smiled to herself a little when she saw the leather-bound book - a diary. She wondered what the occupant even recorded in it, so predictable was his life.

Those were the last thoughts she had alone in the spacious room, because right then the doorknob turned and Aven himself came in.

* * *

All Aven was asking for was one uninterrupted night of sleep, just to collect his thoughts and be prepared to plan the rest of the end-of-season banquet. One night . . . that was, apparently, un-grantable to him, because standing in his room, tense as a coiled spring, was the pale girl from the streets.  
The two of them were frozen for a long second, drawing the silence out. No one breathed, and the fireplace was cold and unlit. It provided no distraction, no chance to escape into their thoughts and...and _disappear._

"Who _are_ you?" Aven was the one to break the silence. The girl hesitated, so Aven tacked on, "And what are you doing in my room?", to the end of his sentence to prompt her to answer.  
"Laelia," The girl squeaked, before clearing her throat. "That's, um, my given name. Most people call me Tasha. Tasha, um, Tasha Lorenn."  
She paused for an awkward second before the gravity of her words hit Aven.

"As in, _House_ Lorenn?" Aven asked. The tension was fading dramatically now, replaced by Aven's growing curiosity.  
"Roathus is my grandfather," Tasha offered, "If that helps."  
"That, um...that is very good knowledge to have. But you still haven't answered my second question; what are you doing in my room?"

He could faintly hear her heart skip a beat (Meyarin hearing was always a good thing; at least, for him) before she replied. " _Valispath_ accidents. I, uh, I wasn't...focusing."  
She swallowed. "I was thinking about where you - Prince Aven, yeah? - slept now. I thought it might be a dungeon and...you know, it doesn't really matter, I need to leave anyway, so, um...let's forget this ever happened, okay?"

The word tumbled out of Aven's lips before he could stop himself. She just had this irresistible aura around her - it felt like a crime to disobey her. "Okay."

Tasha sent a grateful smile his way that made his stomach queasy and his heart tap-dance in his chest, but then she was stepping onto the balcony and activating the _Valispath_...and then she was gone. His heart returned to beating a steady rhythm, and his stomach no longer churned.

He climbed into bed fully-clothed, skipping dinner. He didn't even bother, letting himself slip into his dreams.


End file.
